Everything is changing
by Houseandwilson18
Summary: HouseWilson slash later. This story goes back further in Wilson's teenage years. R and R


(Wilson's Point of View)

(This is when Wilson is 14, House is 18)

"James, it's time to wake up. It's already 6:15" my mother said gently to me as nudged my shoulder, attempting to wake me from my peaceful slumber. I quietly groaned as I covered my head with my stark white comforter, while I grabbed my other pillow possessively. "I can't wait for these dmn finals to be over with" I thought grumpily to myself as I weakly tossed my covers off my gawky body. After studying tediously for my biology mid-terns last night, I recalled only obtaining 5 short hours of sleep, 6 if I was lucky.

I was especially grateful that today was one of the last days of my incredibly difficult junior year of high school. This year seemed to be filled with only misery since I was balancing 6 AP classes with a 4.0 grade point average, and my Dad was constantly pressuring me to achieve a 100 on every test and quiz in all my classes. Sure, for the most part I could grasp the concepts of my demanding calculus class and earn straight A's in that class, but Biology was a completely different story.

For the past three quarters of this year, I've only earned Bs and B-s in my biology class due to the impossible formulas we have to memorize. If I just was working on biology for homework, I'm pretty sure I could ace each test. But, I usually have to conquer a mountain of reports and outlines every night as high as Mount Everest, so my memory is highly hindered; making me wing each pop quiz Mr. Cruise (not referring to Risky Business Tom Cruise) gives us.

I've also been very distracted by our recent life-altering move from very rural Michigan to suburban Allentown, PA, which rocked my world, in a negative way. Dad is a prominent businessman that works with Aetna, an up-and-coming health insurance company that Dad assures us that will be preferred over the Blue Cross health insurance policy. Considering the high salary raise he received last year, I had a lot of faith in his usually smart judgment.

But, one downside of his high paying job was public speaking that he despised beyond belief. My father is very comfortable with the idea of talking to a small group of people in a minor business meeting but the idea of speaking to a large crowd scared the living daylights out of him. This made no sense to me or my brothers but Mom tried her best to release his tension by constant reassurance that he'll be fine. He did eventually find a vice that eased his frayed nerves, but his dangerous behavior made us all suffer considerably.

His alcoholism began innocently enough, with just one beer for social drinking. Mom never thought anything of it, as she chatted with his co-worker's wives. But being 12, my curiosity got the best of me and I followed him to the open bar as I hid behind the cream painted wall. My breathing was heavy, frightened if he were to catch me snooping on him. He was leaning on the bar, asking for a scotch on rocks casually. My heart pounded as I saw him chug 3 drinks in less than 15 minutes.

As he asked for a 5th alcoholic beverage, the bartender froze in fear of my drunken abrasive father. "Sir, you've had enough" the bartender protested helplessly as he slowly backed up against the wood wall, trying to protect himself. "You bstard! I could have you fired! Now give me another dmn drink!" my father yelled as his dark drown eyes blazed in fury. "Please don't give him anymore; he has to drive us home tonight!" I thought to myself as I grew more terrified. I sighed in relief as the intelligent bartender refused again.

My father amazingly heard my voice, even in his heated anger. My lungs felt like they were going to explode, as I sank against the wall, scotching away from him. He was at least 6 feet tall, and was intimidating in his sharp navy suit. He then shoved me against the smooth wall, as his strong hands were gripping my thin arms. "How dare you spy on me James? I've never been so disappointed in you! If you even think about telling your mother, you will be lucky if you survive my wrath" he said intensely as his eyes bore into mine. I struggled to fight back a river of warm tears as my breaths grew shallow and I began to hyperventilate.

"Yes...yes dad! I won't tell her! Please, just don't hurt me. I promise, I won't do it again sir!" I pleaded to him practically on my knees, frightened for my life. His cold copper eyes contained no amount of sympathy, as he punched my left eye. It felt like everything was in slow motion, as I struggled to stand up. My usually strong vision was failing me as the room quickly grew blurry. "Dad, dad, why?" I asked him incoherently as I was slumping against the wall with warm tears running down my cheeks.

He simply walked away as everything grew black, as I faded into unconsciousness. Thin, cold sheets were covering my tall body as I shivered from the over powering air conditioner. Everything was still black but I heard several voices surrounding me. "Is he going to be okay?" a concerned female voice asked which I instantly recognized as my mother's. "He suffered a minor concussion from the impact of the hit but he should be released in a few days" the doctor told my mom reassuringly, while my father comforted her.

"Who would do such a horrible thing? Haven't the police found any suspects yet?" my mother desperately asked the doctor as Dad wrapped his arm around her thin waist tightly. "Dad, my son of a b!tch father could!" I thought furiously as I laid limp in my hospital, as my eyes refused to open. "The police haven't had any leads yet but they said you'll be the first to know" the doctor firmly said as he looked sadly at me.

I had to stay in the hospital for an excruciating length of 3 more days for observation, which did not lead to my father's arrest. No, everyone was PITYING the very man that nearly killed me. After that frightening incident, we relocated to Allentown, Pennsylvania "for business" my father said but I knew it was because people were very suspicious of bruises that frequently caused questioning for my brothers and I.

The one thing that kept me going while I was frequently injured by my father was my supportive group of friends in Michigan. John and Jay were also known as "nerds" since they achieved fantastic grades and were fascinated by Shakespeare. Both were paternal twins who were only 5'7, with black hair and dark green eyes, and they dressed pretty formally for a typical school day. We understood the perils of high school, since all of us were in 10th grade by the time were 13, when we just understood puberty.

I was always reading 19th century literature books in my free time when I wasn't studying, especially Mark Twain's work. After we devoured our brown bagged lunches, I was caught up in A Yankee in a king's court when I noticed that John and Jay had managed to read 3 of Shakespeare's novel in a week. I leaned back in my chair as their green eyes darted through the pages. "So, what's so special about Shakespeare anyway?" I asked my friends casually as they dropped their books resulting in a loud thud on the table.

Jay was the first to stare at me in shock as John simply shook his head. "John, will you do the honor of explaining Shakespeare's brilliance?" Jay asked John as he turned around. "Certainly" John said as he leaned towards me, with intensity sparking in his eyes. "Shakespeare was THE reason why the revival of literature and theater occurred in Europe. He also wrote every kind of literature imaginable to man, and pulled it off magnificently" John explained to me as Jay was handing me Hamlet. "Look, if you still think Shakespeare was "mediocre" after this book, we'll never bother you about it again. But it is superb" John said to me, convincing me Shakespeare must be pretty good.

I began reading Hamlet before I went to bed that night and I never looked back. The three of us would passionately begin debating about which was his best novel. John and Jay were probably only the friends I ever had that accepted me for I really was, not just the person I pretended to be around my parents, which is why I miss them so much. (Back to original scene)

I had gotten dressed in a pair of dark washed denim jeans and a button down dress shirt, since my parents insisted on me looking presentable for school. My dad was sipping a hot cup of coffee while reading the newspaper. Both my brothers were shoving Mom's hot pancakes with butter and maple syrup down their throats as Mom was picking at her breakfast like a bird.

"Morning James" my Dad sternly greeted me as I cautiously sat my seat. "I expect A's on those finals today. _Especially_ biology" he said to me as I grabbed 2 thick hotcakes on my plate. "Dad, I'll get A's. I studied my behind off last night" I told him tritely as I drizzled a generous amount of maple syrup on my pancakes. "Good" my father responded to me as I gulped down my orange juice and nibbled at my breakfast. I was feeling particularly nauseous that morning and I didn't want to get sick during my finals.

"James, are you okay? You've gotten thinner lately" my mother asked me in her "I'm concerned about you" voice. "I'm fine, I just don't want to be late for my finals today" I said nervously to her as I stood up. As I was walking out of the kitchen, I felt my father's intense stare. "I love you Mom" I told her politely as I reentered the kitchen, kissing her on the cheek. "Have a good day at work Dad" I said to him as I bent down to grab my heavy backpack filled with textbooks and notebooks.

I stood up and took a deep breath as I anxiously opened the door. "I hope I finish my finals early today, I want to be on time after school today" I thought to myself as I kicked up my bike's kickstand, propping myself on my red bicycle. I stared at our medium sized house, with light blue siding and white windows. In the last house, I felt much more comfortable but this house made me feel even more trapped with my father. Then, I pedaled myself quickly to school, anxious to finish this last day of school.


End file.
